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DISCOURSE 

COMMEMORATIVE OF THE LATE 

HON. AMBROSE SPENCER, 

I 

LATE ' J!^^ 

CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK". 

DELIVERED IN THE 

SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, ALBANY, 

ON 

Sabbath Eveuiug, April 20, 1848. 

BY WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D. D. 

MINISTER OF THE SAID CHURCH. 



% 



ALBANY: 
JOEL MUNSELL, PRINTER. 

1849. 



DISCOURSE. 



II. SAMUEL III., 38. 

''Know ye not that there is a 'prince and a great man fallen 
this day in Israel?''^ 

The illustrious personage here referred to is Ab- 
ner, the uncle of King Saul, and, for some time, a 
general in his army. After Saul's death, his son 
Ishbosheth succeeded to the throne, and Abner still 
zealously supported the interests of his house in 
opposition to David; but in most of their skirmishes, 
(for their hostile meetings amounted to nothing 
more,) he suffered a defeat. While the two armies 
were encamped near each other in the neighbor- 
hood of Gibeon, Abner barbarously challenged Joab, 
one of David's generals, to put forward twelve men 
from his ranks, to meet an equal number of his 
own in deadly conflict. The challenge was accept- 
ed ; the fight ensued ; and every one of them was 
slain by the sword of his fellow. A general battle 
took place immediately after, in which Abner was 
defeated and put to flight ; and being hotly pursued 
by Asahel, one of David's thirty heroes, and being 
unable to dissuade him from his pursuit, he turned 
upon him and thrust his spear into his side, so that 



he fell dead on the spot. He was, however, still 
pursued by Joab and Abishai, and would, in all pro- 
bability, have suffered another yet more terrible dis- 
comfiture, but for the earnest appeal that he made 
to the mercy of his pursuers. 

Shortly after this, Abner having become incensed 
against Ishbosheth, by reason of a charge of un- 
worthy conduct which he had brought against him, 
solemnly vowed unto the Lord that he would "trans- 
late the kingdom from the house of Saul, and set 
up the throne of David over Israel and over Judah." 
And forthwith he entered into a correspondence 
with David, and actually had a private meeting 
with him, with a view to the accomplishment of 
his purpose. When Joab came to be informed of 
this, he had no confidence in Abner's sincerity, and 
expressed to David, his uncle, the full conviction 
that he was only playing the spy upon his move- 
ments; and he immediately so iar took the matter 
into his own hands, as to despatch to Abner a mes- 
senger, with a request that he would return for the 
purpose of some farther communication with the 
king. Abner, unsuspicious of any evil design, com- 
plied with the request; and the moment that he 
appeared in Joab's presence, the wretch, without 
asking any explanation, or preferring any charge, 
coolly let out his heart's blood. It was an offering 
no doubt partly to revenge and partly to ambition; 
for while he looked upon Abner as the murderer of 
his brother, he was not without appreheasion that 
he might become a formidable rival to himself 



When the tidings were communicated to David, he 
expressed the strongest disapprobation, and even the 
bitterest anguish. He ordained a splendid funeral, 
and pronounced a lofty eulogy, and actaally wept 
over his grave. It was on this occasion that he 
gave utterance to his feelings in the striking lan- 
guage of our text: "Know ye not that there is a 
prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?" 

There is a sense in which all men are great; for 
that which hath reason and immortality, compared 
with whatever is irrational and evanescent, gathers 
a degree of importance that outruns all finite com- 
prehension. When human nature is viewed in this 
light, there is not a form of it so humble but that I 
can, with a good conscience, reverently bow before 
it. I may discover marks of weakness and insig- 
nificance and even debasement, but so long as I 
can trace out that which I know must have come 
by the inspiration of the Almighty, I dare not say 
that there is not greatness there. Nevertheless, 
when we use this term in application to men, we 
more frequently compare them with others of their 
own species than with the inferior orders of exist- 
ence. We say that a man is rendered great among 
his fellows, by his superior intellect, or his superior 
acquirements, or his superior courage, or by some 
providential arrangement of circumstances securing 
his earthly elevation; and the noblest type of human 
greatness never exists but in connection with the 
sanctifying influences of Christianity. There are 
a few men scattered through society whose superi- 



6 

ority is universally acknowledged. Some are lights 
of the church; some are pillars of the state; some 
win their laurels upon the battle field ; some shine 
as the revealers of nature's secrets. You may call 
them great any where, and nobody will dispute 
you. But there is not one of them so great, but 
that, like the illustrious man referred to in the text, 
at some period or other, and by some instrumentality 
or other, he dies. And when such an one dies, — 
such an one especially, — it becometh us all to re- 
member that the voice of the Lord is in it. Lend 
me your attention then, while, in accordance Avilh 
the spirit of the text, and in response to the claims 
of the occasion, I endeavour to lead you into a brief 
train of reflection on 

The Death of the Great. 

1. The death of the great strikingly illustrates 
the supremacy and independence of God. 

It is a signal proof of the perversion of the human 
faculties that a forgetfalness of God, an insensibility 
to his presence and even his existence, is often 
cherished by those very teachings and influences 
which should preserve an unceasing remembrance 
of him. Consider, for instance, the uniformity of 
the divine administration, as it appears both in na- 
ture and providence. Wherefore is it that those 
briglit orbs above us have been, for so many ages, 
wheeling their course through immensity, with un- 
deviating regularity; and that the planet which we 
inhabit is the theatre of an economy so fixed that 



almost every thing in respect to it is subject to 
minute calculation ; — wherefore, I ask, is this won- 
derful exhibition of design and contrivance, but to 
keep man continually mindful of the Creator's wis- 
dom and goodness; and yet out of this very feature 
of the divine administration, man frames an argu- 
ment for cherishing the spirit at least, if not the 
principles, of atheism. Now it must be acknow- 
ledged that it is no anomaly in the course of events 
for men to die, — even for great men to die. On 
the contrary, this is just as much a part of the 
established order of things, as it is that the sun 
should shine by day and the moon and the stars by 
nisfht. Nevertheless, there is that in the death of a 
great man, which is eminently fitted to administer 
a rebuke to those who would cast God out of their 
thoughts. They have been accustomed to contem- 
plate him as among the more gifted and favoured 
of his race. They have identified him with various 
plans in aid of the improvement and elevation of 
society. Perhaps they have lived within the im- 
mediate range of his benign influence, and have 
been accustomed to listen to his words of wisdom 
from day to day. And when he dies, a vacancy, a 
chasm ensues, of which they can not be insensible. 
Whether they have only admired him for his great- 
ness or also loved him for his benefactions, his death 
is fitted to make an impression on their minds far 
deeper and more enduring than the death of an 
ordinary man. And that must be an iron insensi- 
bility that shall keep them, in these circumstances. 



from thinking- of God. AVho but the Infinite, the 
Supreme, raised him up, and allotted to him his 
sphere of action, and at his pleasure numbered him 
with the dead 1 Surely here has been an agency 
that tells most impressively of an Almighty Agent. 
It were strange that mortals should forget God's 
supremacy any where: it would seem impossible 
that they should forget it around the tombs of the 
great. 

But if the death of eminent men illustrates the 
supremacy of God, not less does it illustrate his in- 
dependence ; and the one results necessarily from 
the other. AVhen man has formed an instrument 
exactly fitted to the accomplishment of some im- 
portant purpose, he preserves and cherishes it with 
the utmost care ; and with the loss of it he would 
perhaps identify, in expectation, the certain failure 
of his purpose. The reason is that man is a being 
of limited faculties; and the fact that he has suc- 
ceeded in one thing conveys no assurance that he 
shall be able to succeed in another. But with the 
Infinite it is not so. As he is boundless in his re- 
sources, he can never be straitened for means where- 
with to acccomplish his ends. Here he brings for- 
ward one of eminent gifts and virtues ; and in the 
midst of his vigor and usefulness changes his coun- 
tenance and sends him away. There he preserves 
the life of a great man to old age; but he is taken 
away at last, when it would seem to us that he had 
lost nothing of his wisdom and little of his power; 
and that both might have been kept in requisition 



stiil lonsfer for the benefit of the race. But He is 
not dependant upon this or that or any instrument 
for the accompUshment of his purposes; his omni- 
potence secures to him perfect independence of all. 
And we ought to be thankful rather than to com- 
plain, if, in his wisdom and goodness, He is pleased 
to remove the great and good whom He has em- 
ployed a while on earth to a higher sphere, that 
others may enter into their earthly labours, and also 
be trained up for nobler services and a glorious re- 
ward. 

2. The death of the great puts man, at his best 
state, in humiliating contrast with his Maker. 

We sometimes see man in his lowest state ; per- 
haps originally imbecile, and scarcely at all improv- 
ed by culture ; perhaps debased by sensuality and 
branded by society as a drone or a curse. But this 
humble, pitiable type of humanity we will pass over, 
and limit our views to some noble specimen ; to a 
man of splendid intellect, and generous aspirations; 
a man whose voice has been power, whose thoughts 
have become the property of the world, and whose 
memory posterity will account it a privilege to em- 
balm. You have admired his greatness in life: 
come now and contemplate him in the weakness, 
the helplessness, the humiliation of death. Perhaps 
the king of terrors has thrown out his signals to 
announce his approach. The heart and the flesh 
may have begun to fail; the memory may have 
lost its power to retain; the clear and strong opera- 
tions of the intellect may have given place to the 



10 

feebleness of infancy or the ravings of delirium; 
the clays and nights may be one continuous round 
of restlessness and prostration and pain, until, at 
length, the last pulsation announces that the 
shadows of the night of death are there. And after 
that, you may see him in his grave clothes, you may 
see him in his coffin, and if you will, you may see 
him, after corruption and the worm have set up 
their dominion over him. You knew him once as 
"a prince and a great man;" but see how death 
has sported Avith all that greatness ! 

And what is man, — what is even the greatest 
of men, in the presence of his Maker? "Man dieth 
and wasteth away; " but God is "the King eternal 
and immortal." Man dieth leaving his purposes 
unaccomplished ; but God " worketh all things 
after the counsel of his own will." Man goeth into 
corruption and darkness; God dwelleth forever in 
the "light inaccessible." If I have been tempted 
to be proud of my nature, when I have felt the 
beamings of some glorious intellect in all its good- 
liness and prime, surely I have been relieved from 
the temptation when I have seen the same intellect 
sinking in imbecility and finally passing away in 
death, and at the same time have lifted my eyes 
upward to Him who is the " Creator of the ends of 
the earth," and who "fainteth not, neither is weary." 

3. The death of the great deposites with the fu- 
ture the accumulated influence of their life, thereby 
giving not only perpetuity but a sort of ubiquity to 
their earthly existence. 



11 

When an individual dies, though we believe that 
he still exists with all his capacities for action and 
enjoyment in another state, yet we are accustomed 
to say that he has done with the present world ; 
that he has no longer any share in any thing that 
is done under the sun. And in one sense certainly 
this is true : he is no longer personally here, to be 
an actor in life's scenes, or a partaker of its joys 
and sorrows. But in another sense he is here : he 
is represented, perpetuated, in the influence of what 
he has been and what he has done; and that in- 
fluence operates in an ever widening range and an 
ever increasing intensity. This remark applies in- 
deed to the humblest individual, whether good or 
bad; for no man's condition is so insulated, but that 
he exerts some influence ; and it belongs to the very 
nature of influence that it is perpetual. But the 
remark has a much more striking application to 
those who are endowed with eminent gifts and who 
occupy the high places of society. Suppose a man 
to have been active in framing or in executing his 
country's laws; or suppose him to have been the 
originator or the chief patron of some great benevo- 
lent institution ; or suppose him to have given a fa- 
vourable impulse and direction to the public mind 
on any subject deeply involving the public weal ; 
rely on it, such a person, so far as respects his in- 
fluence on earth, has only just begun to live, when 
the grave takes him into its charge. He lives not 
only in the habits of individuals, but in the general 
structure of society. He lives in the opinions and 



12 

feelings and enjoyments of those who never saw 
his face, — possibly never heard his name. He lives 
in the energies of other great minds that may have 
been waked into exercise by the contemplation of 
his example. And as influence is forever cumula- 
tive, the longer he sleeps in the grave, the wider 
and the more intense is his dominion over the livino-. 
Yes, I repeat, though death, in taking away the 
great, seems sometimes to sport with the hopes of 
society, and as the case may be, covers a state or 
even a nation with sackcloth, yet the influence of 
their worthy or illustrious deeds he spares to the 
world. He leaves it as a rich fountain of blessing 
to be a witness for them on earth, after their spirits 
are in Heaven. 

Take an example or two. The brighest star of 
his age, perhaps I may say of any age, was Paul. 
And the influence which he had exerted, when he 
was taken to his reward, transcends the limit of 
human calculation. But Paul had only begun to 
fulfil his mission then. He always has been and 
always will be, one of the master spirits of Christ- 
ianity. The very air that we breathe in our closets 
and in our sanctuaries, is consecrated by his pre- 
sence; and every instrumentality that is put in ope- 
ration for the renovation of the world, is identified 
with his great and heroic spirit. Luther was the 
giant of the Reformation, and the history of his 
earthly course is the history of a mighty mind and 
of glorious exploits; but he had only begun his 
work upon earth when his visible career closed. His 



13 

greater Avork has been accomplislied while he has 
been still in his tomb. And the light and glory that 
pervade some countries, and the deep hearings of 
society that are manifested in others, bear witness 
that his work is still upon the advance. Washing- 
ton was the presiding genius of our Revolution, 
The battle field, the senate house, every spot on 
which he paused, or over which he passed, testified 
to his greatness; and he who undertakes to tell the 
story of his life, feels that he needs almost a life to 
tell it. But who shall chronicle his later deeds? 
Who shall estimate the amount of good which he 
has accomplished, is accomplishing continually, by 
means of these free institutions Avhich he has given 
us? Who shall say how far his spirit is at work 
in remodelling the fabric of society in other coun- 
tries; in overturning the thrones of tyrants, and 
bidding the oppressed stand erect and breathe the 
air of civil freedom ? Peace to the ashes of our 
Washington ; but God speed his influence in help- 
ing forward the great cause of the world's renova- 
tion ! 

4. The death of the great is fitted to quicken the 
aspirations of the living, and especially of the 
yonng, for higher measures of improvement and 
usefulness. 

When a great man dies, notwithstanding he still 
continues to live in the influence of the past, yet a 
perceptible chasm ensues in the various circles in 
which he has moved. If he have been specially a 
public man, connected with the higher movements of 



14 

church or state, the vacancy consequent upon his 
death is felt to be an important one, — one which 
can be advantageously filled only by some kindred 
spirit. Or even if he have occupied no public sta- 
tion, yet if he have been an active labourer for good 
in some private field, — if he have consecrated the 
energies of his great mind to the improvement of 
society while he has been shut up in his closet, — 
still there should be some fitting occupant for the 
place that hath known him and shall know him no 
more. For the influence of the living is necessary 
not only to guide and give effect to the influence 
of the dead, not only to sustain the good instrument- 
alities already in existence, but to originate and 
sustain others, with a view to widen the sphere as 
well as to quicken the impulses of an active bene- 
ficence. What an argument this with every gene- 
rous mind, especially with every young man who 
loves his country or his race, to aim at the highest 
culture of his faculties, with a view to occupy the 
places of honourable usefulness, which, from time 
to time, are vacated by death. The great and the 
wise are continually passing oft' the stnge, and 
to whom shall society look, a little while hence, if 
not to you who are now in the spring time of life, 
to guide its movements and guard its interests? 
And besides, does not the example of illustrious 
men often become both more impressive and more 
attractive, after they are gone ? When the grave 
has closed upon them, you insensibly lose sight in 
a great measure of the infirmities by which their 



15 

characters may have been marred, while their great 
and good qualities seem to gather a brighter lustre. 
And then the grave throws around them an air of 
sacredness, which seems to enforce their claim upon 
your regard; and if you turn away from them with 
indifference, you feel not only that you deal unjustly 
with their memories, but that you dishonour your 
own nature. Happy were it for every young man, 
if he were so imbued with the spirit of right that 
he could not pass the sepulchre of any eminent 
patriot or eminent philanthropist, without reverently 
pausing and forming a new resolution to live for 
the benefit of his country and of the world. 

5. The death of the great may well heighten our 
estimate of the powers of the world to come. 

It is impossible, constituted as we are in the pre- 
sent world, but that the visible should be, to some 
extent, our standard of judging of the invisible. 
The eye of sense can not look beyond the vail; 
nevertheless our estimate of what exists there, takes 
its complexion in a degree from what we witness 
and experience here. The beings with whom we 
are conversant on earth, after having sojourned here 
for a little period, pass on to become inhabitants of 
the world unseen ; and though we know that in the 
transition from one world to another, they undergo 
a mighty change, yet in all the substantial qualities 
of their character, we can not doubt that their 
identity remains. Heaven is the final gathering 
place of the good ; and when we see powerful and 
cultivated minds, passing off under the sustaining 



16 

influence of Christian faith, to a world where every 
thing will be favourable to their ever increasing 
exaltation; and especially when we remember that 
these belong to the humblest race that finds a place 
among Heaven's inhabitants, — what limit can our 
conceptions assign to the strength and beauty that 
will be found in God's upper sanctuary. Ye lights 
of the world, — Newton and Leighton and Edwards 
and Butler and Chalmers, — we are lost in the gran- 
deur of your discoveries, or in the depth of your re- 
searches, even while you were here seeing through 
a glass darkly; — but how shall we estimate the 
greatness of your faculties now that they are un- 
folding and operating in the light of Heaven; — 
especially how shall we estimate the intellectual 
glory of the world in which ye dwell, when we 
bear in mind that there are myriads of beings there 
of whom ye may be learners! Language fails, 
imagination halts and sinks, before the powers of 
the world to come; — especially the powers of light 
and glory. 

6. In the death of the great, Avhere greatness is 
crowned with goodness, we see Avisdom eminently 
justified of her children. 

The death of every true Christian is a witness for 
the truth and power of Christianity. No matter 
though he who is dying be an inmate of the 
obscurest hovel; no matter though his mind have 
never been enlightened, except on the one great 
subject of Christ and his salvation; yet the faith 
that dislodges fear and brings triumph even to such 



17 

a one in the closing hour should be regarded as a 
certificate for Christianity that ought to make the 
infidel blush. But it happens in respect to religion 
as every thing else, that the world are governed by 
the authority of names; and there are multitudes 
with whom the most triumphant death-scene of a 
poor and illiterate man will pass for nothing, because 
it will be set to the account of ignorance or enthu- 
siasm. But let a man of acknowledged greatness 
of intellect, especially one whose vocation is in no 
wise identified with Christianity, and whose voice 
has often made itself heard to the extremities of the 
nation on subjects of political import, — let such a 
one lie down upon his death bed with the spirit of 
an humble disciple, — let him talk freely and 
humbly and exultingly of the cross of Christ as his 
only refuge, and let it be seen that his great mind 
is reposing there with holy serenity on his passage 
through the dark valley, — and you may rest assured 
that his voice will be heard in death with far more 
attention and reverence than it was in life. Will 
the scoffer dare to ridicule that as a phantom which 
such a mind, in the most honest hour, grasped as 
its very life? AVill not the skeptic think it best to 
review the grounds, on which he has cast away 
Christianity, when a far greater than he having 
examined it well, is resting his hope upon it for 
eternity? Will not the worldly minded man who 
has thought that religion might be postponed where 
there was anything more of the world to be gained, 
be rebuked out of his delusion by the actings of 

3 



18 

that triumphant faith? In many respects the great 
and the insignificant are on an equality in death; 
but you may rest assured that the great man who 
dies peacefully and triumphantly is peculiarly privi- 
leged as a witness for his religion. The testimony 
which he renders, not omy acts powerfully upon 
those who stand around his death bed, but it sur- 
vives him, treasured in many hearts; and it will 
work for the honour of his Master long after he has 
gone to mingle in brighter scenes. 

That a great man and a prince hath just fallen, 
or rather hath found his final resting place, in the 
midst of us, I may say without the fear of contra- 
diction. In connecting with our accustomed reli- 
gious service a tribute to his memory, I do not 
forget that he was never, strictly speaking, a member 
of this congregation, and that he belonged ultimately 
to a ditferent communion from our own. But still 
I love to feel that there was a sense in which he 
was one of us. He had near relatives here with 
whom he often came to mingle in our worship; 
some of us looked upon him as a devoted and 
generous friend ; and all regarded him with respect 
and veneration. I acknowledge that, in speaking 
of him thus publicly, I am obeying the impulses 
of a strong personal attachment; but, in doing so, 
I have no fear that I shall oftend against your con- 
victions of what is befitting the place or the occa- 
sion. Ilis character is the property of the whole 
community; and I, as a member of the community, 
have a right to pay to it a passing tribute. 



19 

The history of his life which will no doubt, ere 
long, under some master hand, expand into at least 
a volume, I must be contented to compress into a 
few brief sentences. 

Our venerable friend was born at Salisbury, Con- 
necticut, December 13, 1765. He entered Yale 
College in 1779, and continued there till the com- 
mencement of the last year of his course, Avhen, in 
consequence of the operations of college being 
disturbed by the war, he transferred his relation to 
the university at Cambridge, where he graduated 
with high reputation in 1783. Having pursued the 
study of the law under two or three highly respect- 
able jurists, he was admitted as a practising attorney 
in 1786; and shortly after this, became a resident 
of the neighboring city of Hudson. In 1786 he 
was appointed clerk of that city. In 1793 he was 
elected by the county of Columbia a member of the 
assembly of this state. In 1795 and again in 1798 
he was chosen a member of the senate. In 1802 
he was appointed Attorney-General. In 1804 he 
was appointed a Justice, and in lbl9 Chief Justice, 
of our Supreme Court. In 1829 he was chosen a 
representative of this district to the Congress of the 
United States. In these several stations he acquitted 
himself with signal ability; though it was doubtless 
in a judicial capacity, in Avhicii also he was occupied 
for the longest time, that he gathered his brightest 
professional laurels. 

At the expiration of his term in Congress, he re- 
tired from public life, though he still retained the 



20 

deepest interest in all the political movements of 
the country and the world, and sometimes lent a 
direct personal influence in aid of objects which he 
regarded as of great national moment. For several 
years he resided in the neighborhood of the city, 
devoting himself chiefly to agricultural pursuits; 
but in 1839 he removed to the village of Lyons, 
where, with the exception of occasional visits which 
he made here and elsewhere, he passed the residue 
of his days. He lived there a fine example of dig- 
nity, simplicity and hospitality. He had always a 
generous welcome for his friends; and many have 
enjoyed the luxury of walking with him over his 
pleasant grounds and listening to his edifying con- 
versation. His faculties both physical and intel- 
lectual have continued, up to a very recent period 
without any perceptible abatement of their vigour. 
There was an elasticity in his movements and a 
power in his conversation, which obliged us to look 
away from both to his somewhat furrowed visage, 
before we could fully realize tliat he was an old 
man. But disease, that mighty agent before which 
the strongest bow, at length marked him as his 
victim. In the course of the last summer the tid- 
ings came to us that his health had begun to decline, 
and that some were apprehensive that the silver 
cord might quickly be loosed. For some time we 
were met with alternate messages of hopefulness 
and of discouragement; but at length we were con- 
strained to yield to a certain expectation of a fatal 
issue of his disease. Several of the last months of 



21 

his life were marked not only by progressive decay 
but by intense suftering; and yet until within a few 
weeks of his death, his mental faculties have 
retained well nigh their accustomed vigour; in so 
much that, in one instance, when a near friend 
ventured to ask his opinion upon a difficult law 
case, he not only answered most promptly and 
satisfactorily, but referred him at once to the proper 
authority; and in another case, when the same friend 
was conversing with him on the subject of our 
recent treaty with Mexico, and hesitated in respect 
to the name of a particular place, the memory of 
the venerable old man instantly supplied it. There 
is one, and that the most interesting feature of his 
illness, of which I shall speak in another connection. 
Suffice it to say, here, that after an illness of more 
than nine months, and an actual confinement to his 
bed of more than five, in the midst of the most 
examplary filial attentions and in the bosom of a 
community who reverenced him as a sage and a 
patriarch, he sunk calmly to his final rest. 

I must say something now of the character of 
Judge Spencer; and I rejoice that I can speak of it 
without reserve and without embarrassment. I am 
well aware that during a large part of his life he 
was earnestly, hotly engaged in the strife of politics; 
and it were to be expected that hostility to the 
measures would sometimes grow into hostility to 
the man. But thanks to a gracious Providence, 
party spirit rarely outlives the individual who is the 
object of it. It generally yields to a withdrawal 



22 

from public life, especially in connection with a 
serene and dignified old age; but it must have 
gathered a most unwonted intenseness, in order to 
withstand the withering influence of an association 
with the grave. I speak in the hearing of those 
who have differed widely and earnestly from our 
friend in respect to his political maxims and conduct; 
but I rejoice to believe that I do not speak to an 
individual who does not now venerate his memory, 
and who will not gladly follow me in the brief 
notices which I am to offer of his extraordinary 
endowments and qualities. 

If I were obliged to give my views of his character 
within the limits of a single sentence, I should not 
know how to do it better than by saying that he 
was great in his whole nature; and that in his 
original constitution, the intellectual, the moral, the 
physical, were brought together in admirable pro- 
portions. If I mistake not, we may successfully 
reach an analysis of his character, by referring to 
the three distinct points of quickness, clearness, 
strength. 

Quickness. 

The operations of his intellect outstripped the 
lightning. More would be revealed to him by a 
single glance at a difficult subject than most minds 
would gather from a process of diligent and pro- 
tracted research. Nevertheless his mind would not 
rest in a conclusion unless he could feel assured 
that he had actually availed himself of all the light 



23 

at his command; and he had the faculty, in an 
eminent degree, of holding- an abstruse subject to 
his thoughts in patient investigation, until he had 
fathomed its depths and mastered its difficulties. 
In respect to nothing, perhaps, was his discernment 
more remarkable than human character. From a 
few minutes conversation, even with a stranger, he 
would generally take an accurate measurement of 
both his intellectual and moral qualities; and many 
a man has been weighed in his balance and found 
wanting in his head or his heart, who has not 
dreamed of attracting his notice, — much less of 
being an object of his scrutiny. And there was a 
corresponding quickness pervading the operations 
of his moral nature, especially his passions. With 
a high native sense of honour, he could never brook 
a mean action; and where he saw or thought he 
saw anything like this, the depths of his spirit would 
often be stirred in indignation, in the twinkling of 
an eye. And the same quality pertained even to 
the movements of his body. Though there was 
nothing hurried in his gait, that seemed to say that 
he was trying to overtake something that had 
escaped him, yet there was an energy and rapidity 
of motion that told that he had something to do, 
and that he was able to do it. As he has walked 
our streets even in his old age, I have known per- 
sons stop and gaze with surprise at the lightness 
and the vigour of his step, which, however, was 
chiefly remarkable as being an index to a corres- 
ponding vigour of intellect and buoyancy of spirits. 



24 



Clearness. 

In respect to the intellect at least, this quality is 
closely connected with the preceding, and gives it 
all its vahie; for it matters little how rapid may be 
the mind's movements, provided it moves only in a 
mist. Judge Spencer saw in the light of noonday 
Avhatever subject occupied his thoughts. Even if 
when he first contemplated it, he tbund it lying in 
thick darkness, he was sure to hold it to his mind 
till it was relieved from all perplexity. And what 
was clear to himself he had the ability of rendering 
clear to others; and this he did, not by tedious 
illustration or circumlocution, but by a process so 
short and direct and simple, that the hearer was 
often left to marvel that he had not reached the 
same point from his own independent reflection. I 
am not aware that he had ever any relish for mere 
metaphysical or philosophical speculation: he de- 
lighted rather to expatiate in the broad field of 
comnjon sense realities. But if his mind had taken 
a different turn, — if he had been a philosopher 
instead of a judge and a statesman, he would have 
been a model of clearness in his speculations and 
reasonings. And with this transparency of thought 
was united an honesty, an integrity of purpose, 
that could scarcely fail to awaken both confidence 
and respect. I never heard him charged with dis- 
simulation: I do not believe that he was capable of 
it. However vou might difler from him in his 
views, you could not resist the impression that he 



25 

spoke from the depths of his own convictions. He 
could keep no terms with even the semblance of 
duplicity or intrigue; and I doubt whether he ever 
came in contact with it, but that it met a scathing 
rebuke. And the inflexible honesty of his spirit 
imprinted itself upon his countenance; it spoke in 
his whole air and manner; and you must have 
kept even out of sight of the man, if you would have 
harboured a contrary suspicion. 

Strength. 

This no doubt must be regarded as the leading 
element of his constitution. In his intellect there 
was such a preponderance of the more solid quali- 
ties, as cast whatever of the imaginative he may 
have possessed, into the shade. He had a strength 
of judgment that forbade all trifling with his opinion. 
He had a strength of memory that rendered it difli- 
cult to appeal from it with success in respect to any 
thino- that he had ever known. He had the reason- 
ing faculty, the ability to grapple with diflicult sub- 
jects, and send an adversary to the wall, in a de- 
gree of strength that was sometimes exceedingly 
inconvenient to those who ventured to oppose him. 
And passing from the intellectual to the moral, Ave 
find the same characteristic no less strongly marked. 
There was a strength of feeling and of purpose that 
was as irresistible as the mountain torrent. His 
feelings of affection towards those whom he loved, 
kept them continually enchained to his heart. His 
feelings of compassion towards those whom he re- 

4 



26 

garded as injured, awoke his great mind into vigor- 
ous exercise. His feelings of indignation towards 
the acknowledged originators or abettors of evil, 
sometimes burst forth in storm and lightning. With- 
out anything of ostentatious defiance, there was an 
independence, a courage, a loftiness of spirit, that 
even the skilful and the well armed hesitated to 
assail. And in this respect also his noble form was 
worthy of the spirit that dwelt in it: strong, manly, 
majestic, it proclaimed every where the actings of 
a great mind and a great heart. 

After having said thus much of the elements of 
his character as they were moulded by education 
and habit, I scarcely need speak of what he was in 
his various relations. ]\evertheless, I can not for- 
bear to say that in the more private and especially 
the domestic walks of life, he was a model of what- 
ever was exemplary and affectionate. I remember 
well when his excellent wife, during her last pro- 
tracted illness, was struggling beneath an over- 
whelming burden of spiritual depression, — not- 
withstanding he could not be supposed at the time 
to have formed the same practical estimate of the 
case as he would have done at a later period, under 
the influence of more decided religious feelings, — 
yet he exhibited, during the Avhole scene, the most 
exemplary patience and tenderness, and Avas always 
on the alert for some new expedient to mitigate her 
sufferiu"-. In the ordinary intercourse of life he 
was at once dignified in his condescension and con- 
descending in his dignity. He never crouched to 



i 



27 

the great on the one hand or scorned the insignifi- 
cant on the other. In his more public rckitions, 
especially in his judicial character, if a universal 
and uncontradicted testimony may be relied on, it 
is not easy to speak of him in terms of exaggerated 
praise. The quickness and the clearness of his per- 
ceptions, his uncompromising integrity, and the 
strength and fearlessness that pertained to all his 
decisions, rendered him a great light amidst one of 
the brightest clusters of judicial talent that have 
adorned any state or age. His character as a politi- 
cian I shall leave to politicians to pourtray ; though 
I may adventure this remark, — that whatever his 
political opinions may have been, they were held 
with honesty and defended with power. 

I have thus given you a rapid, but so far as I 
could a faithful, sketch of the character of our 
venerated friend, as it has been exhibited during 
the greater part of his life; but I bless the Giver of 
all good that I am not obliged to stop here, leaving 
out that which constitutes the most substantial 
element of ultimate greatness; I mean a practical 
and public recognition of the high claims of Christ- 
ianity. It was not till he had retired from the 
more active scenes of life, (and in this respect I do 
not commend him as a model, — for every one should 
give himself to the service of his Creator and Re- 
deemer from the very commencement of his exist- 
ence), — it was not till he had become disconnected, 
in a great measure, with the public service, that he 
seems to have been brought into the attitude of 



28 

decided and earnest inquiry on the most moment- 
ous of all subjects; and then, under the faithful 
ministrations of an excellent Episcopal clergyman^ 
for whom he ever afterwards entertained the most 
grateful and affectionate regard, his mind was 
brought, as he believed, to repose in the gracious 
provisions and promises of the gospel. In a letter 
bearing date, September 16th 1841, he writes thus to 
his daughter: " I propose on the next sabbath to ap- 
proach the communion table, and partake of that 
ordinance instituted by our blessed Saviour, as an 
evidence of our belief in Him, and of our sincere 
and heartfelt repentence for our sins. God grant me 
his spirit that I may do so with a sincere heart and 
the most devout feelings. I anticipate that this 
annunciation will impart to you the greatest satis- 
faction and joy." In accordance with this commu- 
nication, he joined the Episcopal church at Lyons 
and remained in constant and devout communion 
with it to the close of life. 

In my personal intercourse with him during the 
period that has elapsed since he became a commu- 
nicant, I have noticed with great pleasure the fre- 
quent and earnest movements of his mind towards 
subjects connected with the progress of Christ's 
kingdom; and on one occasion at least he referred 
with the deepest interest, but with great apparent 
humility, to the happy change of which he believed 
himself to have been the subject. His attendance 
on public worship, so long as his health would per- 

' Rev. S. Cook, now Rector of St. Paul's Church, New Haven. 



29 

mit, was most exemplary; and during the period of 
his long confinement, he has been not a little quick- 
ened and sustained by having the communion ad- 
ministered to him in his own chamber. He built 
an altar to the Lord in his family, and regularly 
bowed the knee in an offering of domestic prayer 
and praise. But I confess that the most beantiful 
incident that I have heard of in connection with 
his Christian life, has respect to the deep interest 
Avhich he felt in regard to the spiritual welfare of 
some of his oldest friends. There were twdr indi- 
viduals' especially, towards whom his respect and 
affection had been the regular growth of nearly a 
whole life, with whom he had mingled much not 
only in private intercourse but in public service, — 
both of them, like himself, men of intellectual might 
and of distinguished name,- — ^in relation to whose 
higher interests he felt such intense anxiety, that 
he ventured to address to each of them a letter, 
suggesting the importance of giving their thoughts 
more particularly to this greatest of all concerns. 
Both letters were received with gratitude and pon- 
dered with earnest attention; and both were an- 
swered in a way that gave to our friend the most 
intense satisfaction. The result was that both these 
eminent individuals, before their death, were fol- 
lowers of his example, in making a public profes- 
sion of their faith in the Saviour. God alone 
knoweth the heart; but there is something exqui- 
sitely touching and delightful in the thought, that 

' Gen, Artnstron<r and Chancellor Kent. 



30 

of three illustrious minds, the very patriarchs of 
society, — one should be the guide, the others should 
be the followers, to the cross of Christ. 

Of his last illness I can speak only from the tes- 
timony of friends who ministered to him; but from 
all that I have heard, I can not doubt that he fur- 
nished a lovely and edifying example of the genuine 
Christian spirit. In a letter to his daughter, Avritten 
at an early period of his illness, and before his case 
had become specially alarming, he says, — " I enjoy 
great serenity of mind, and can contemplate divine 
things with unspeakable satisfaction;" and this 
seems to have been a faithful description of the 
state of his mind during the residue of his life. 
Though he was not indifferent to passing events, 
and especially to the great interests of his country, 
for whose prosperity his heart was always beating 
in strong pulsations, yet it was evident that he was 
chiefly engrossed by those spiritual exercises which 
bring man nearest to his Maker, and which consti- 
tute the appropriate preparation for an introduction 
to his immediate presence. Though his sufferings 
were intense, they Avere mingled with unqualified 
submission, with expressions of humble trust and 
hope, such as take away the terror of the death 
bed; or if his patience sometimes temporarily yield- 
ed to paroxysms of bodily agony, it was followed 
by the most affecting exhibitioji of humility and 
penitence. It was his earnest desire to depart and 
be with Christ; and so long as his mind could grasp 
any thing, the thoughts of Christ and of heavenly 



31 

glory seemed, in a great degree, to occupy it. His 
friends who were so often witnesses to the breath- 
ings of liis spirit in devotion, and who finally saw 
his majestic frame sink under the power of the de- 
stroyer, felt a joyfnl confidence that the one entered 
into the rest of Heaven to mingle with saints and 
seraphs, the other into the rest of the grave to await 
a g-lorious resurrection. 

When I look round and see how the graves of 
the eminent have lately been multiplying, I can 
not resist the impression that God is calling upon 
the country at large, in a tone of no ordinary im- 
pressiveness, to put herself in the attitude of humi- 
liation, in acknowledgement of his mighty hand. 
It was but the other day that the illustrious Kent 
Avas taken; a man endeared to all who knew him, 
by his private virtues, and venerated every where 
as among the judicial lights of the age. And while 
the great and universal sensation produced by his 
death had yet scarcely begun to subside, the tidings 
went forth from the heart of the nation, that the 
venerable Adams was not,' — for death had smitten 
him also; that he had died with his armour on, full 
of years and of honours. And passing by others of 
distinguished name whom the grave has since 
claimed, Spencer has now followed in their track; 
than whom, — I say it advisedly, — the nation has 
rarely had a greater man to lose. I look over 
society, and am constrained to ask in relation to 
those noble minds that illumined the last age, — 
" Where are they ?" I search the College catalogue, 



32 

and with few exceptions, I find associated with 
their names the ominous star pointing to the grave. 
In the class of which our lamented friend was a 
graduate, the name of the venerable Otis still 
lingers, as among the living;^ and here and there 
in our own walks, we meet with one of these noble 
relics and witnesses of the past; but they stand like 
solitary survivors of a thick forest, which the wood- 
man's axe has spared. Blessings rest upon their 
heads while they live, and Heaven receive their 
spirits when they die ! But I say again, let the 
nation learn wisdom at the graves of her mighty 
dead. Let there be something more than form, — 
let there be spirit and power, in her mourning. Let 
the virtues of the departed be reproduced in those 
who survive, and again in those who are hereafter 
to be; and may each passing generation excel in 
wisdom and strength and purity, all that preceded it. 
And now who will not say, in view of our medi- 
tations, that Practical Christianity, — Christianity 
in the heart and in the life, constitutes the crowning 
attribute of a noble character. I venerate a lofty 
intellect; for I recognize in it a bright spark of the 
divinity. I admire a generous and heroic spirit, 
that wakes instinctively to the claims of friendship 
or patriotism or philanthropy. 1 would not take a 
laurel from the brow of the statesman or the judge, 
that has been earned by an honest devotion to the 
public weal. Let the energies and graces that are 
the product of nature and education, as well as the 

' Mr. Otis has deceased since this discourse was delivered. 



33 

distinctions of society which may be consequent 
upon them, — all pass for what they are worth ; but 
let nothing of this kind venture to intrude itself into 
a comparison with that incomparably higher dignity 
and excellence which living Christianity imparts to 
its votaries. This makes man the admiration of 
angels, and fits him to be their companion. This 
secures to him the indwelling of God in his own 
bosom. This puts Heaven's mark upon him while 
he is yet a sojourner in this dark and stormy world. 
This preserves in his mind an abiding, practical 
consciousness of his glorious destination. Oh when 
this vision of spiritual greatness and purity and im- 
mortality comes up before me, I am ready to say, 
Only let me be a true disciple of Christ, and then 
take your choice whether a palace or a hovel shall 
be my earthly dweUing place ! 

Is there any brighter form in which Christianity 
is ever seen, than as the quickener and the helper 
of a powerful intellect and of venerable old age ? 
To see a mind before whose profound and mighty 
workings the world are accustomed to bow, — itself 
bowing in an attitude of humble discipleship at the 
Saviour's feet; — its regenerate faculties moving 
under a heavenly impulse and brightening into in- 
creasing vigour and purity ; — Oh is there not some- 
thing here to aid our conceptions of the greatness 
and the glory of the third Heavens ? And especially 
when you see Christianity in communion with 
such a mind amidst the infirmities of old age, — the 
period when the almond tree flourishes and the 



C" 



34 



daughters of music are brought low; — when you 
see how it connects itself as a principle of strengtK 
with weakness, and as a fountain of light with 
darkness; — and especially when you notice its 
operations in kindling rapture in the eye, as it be- 
holds the star of immortal life rising out of the 
shadows of the tomb, — I ask, with confidence, in 
what language will you show forth the praises of 
all glorious Christianity? Venerable old men, ye 
are emphatically lights in the world ! Blessed are 
ye who mourn for such; for God comforts you with 
unwonted consolation. Blessed are we who have 
witnessed such examples; for they are among the 
rarest lessons of truth and virtue and wisdom. "Who 
would not say, I would not live alway, — but would 
go, whenever God calls, to join the communion of 
illustrious minds. 



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